


My Name is a War Song

by banditess



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alcohol, All the Things That Make Life Fun, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, But I Needed This in My Life Okay, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Piercings, Probably ooc, Sex Drugs and Rock and Roll, Slow Burn, Smoking, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-06-30 11:01:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15750348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/banditess/pseuds/banditess
Summary: Noct's favorite band is in town, and he's excited about finally getting to see them live. But things take a turn when he encounters the singer, Ardyn Izunia, outside the venue...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nickofhearts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nickofhearts/gifts), [jlavisant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jlavisant/gifts), [ValkyrieofArdyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValkyrieofArdyn/gifts), [prince_noctease](https://archiveofourown.org/users/prince_noctease/gifts), [roundnround](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roundnround/gifts).



> This has been on my to-write list since the game was released, and I'm so happy to finally be posting it (mostly) in time for this year's Ardynoct Week. None of the prompts really fit it, so please consider this my entry for the Free Days.
> 
> Title is from the song "My Name is Ruin" by Gary Numan. This fic written under the influence of lots of goth rock and old school horrorpunk. (Ask for the playlist, and ye shall receive.)
> 
> Dedicated to all of my cheerleaders in the Ardynoct side of the fandom -- y'all are too good to me. :')

Noct was just finishing applying the thick slashes of black eyeliner along the curves of his eyelids when the sunny chocobo-chirp that signalled a message from Prompto lit up his phone.  
  
_Hey!!_ read the text. _Srsly stoked abt this show!!!_  
  
_Same,_ Noct replied. _See you there?_  
  
A string of winking emoji and thumbs-ups appeared in response. He set his phone down and took a seat at his bedside to lace up his boots.  
  
Prompto often teased Noct that people’s _grandmas_ texted with more expression than he did, but he really _was_ excited about the concert. Ten Years of Darkness was Noct’s favorite band, and this was their first tour in years. Sure, they were a little...well, _old_ \-- the band had been around _so_ long, in fact, that the vocalist was the only founding member of the band left. Of course, there were heated debates on the Internet about whether the old or new members were the better musicians, but Noct didn’t really care one way or the other. Music was music, and he loved the band regardless of how long they’d been around or who played the instruments in it.  
  
Noctis stood and did one last check of his outfit in the mirror: Black skinny jeans tucked lazily into the tops of his boots, black skull-patterned shirt just form-fitting enough to make Gladio stop asking where he was hiding his muscles. He fiddled with his ear cuff and plugs, and then his lip piercings. (Momentarily, he flashed back to the day he had come home with the two studs, snakebite-style, in his lower lip. “ _I’ll be giving this company to you one day, my son,”_ his father had said. “ _Do you expect investors to take you seriously with your face full of holes? ...Are you even listening?”_ ...He was not.) The only thing left was his hair. Like a chocobo preening its feathers, he took a few minutes to carefully smooth down the wayward strands in the front.  
  
After a last-minute decision to add a leather wristband to his ensemble, Noct finally felt satisfied with his look. He grabbed his keys and set off for the venue, putting the 10YoD discography on shuffle to set the mood.  
  
Humming along as he drove, Noctis thought about the first time he heard one of their songs. He was 16. Nyx was driving him home from school, and the radio was on. The music was soft, but he heard the first few notes of a song he recognized, so he reached over to turn up the volume.  
  
Noct was getting into the groove of the song -- nodding along a bit, even tapping his fingers against his knee -- when he saw Nyx raising an eyebrow at him.  
  
“What?” Noct had asked.  
  
“Seriously? Is _Doink!_ what the kids are into these days?” Nyx feigned gagging. “Their singer wouldn't know a melody if it hit him over the head.”  
  
He motioned to the glove compartment.  
  
“Grab the case out of there and pick the first CD that calls to you,” he said, smiling warmly at Noctis. “We’ll make a headbanger of you yet.”  
  
Nyx changed his life that day.  
  
Being CEO of a large multinational corporation, Noct’s father Regis kept some hired muscle around -- just in case. There were a number of them, but Nyx was Noctis’ favorite. Nyx was talented, there was no doubt about that -- he had a sixth sense about when things were just _not right_ , and was quick to think and act. But Noctis loved him mostly because he never treated Noct like a child in need of protection. He was just _there_ when Noct needed him, a reassuring presence when his father was absent.  
  
Later on, Nyx introduced him to all the good shit: Swords n’ Sylleblossoms, Blynd Koeurl, The Curaga, Mythril Maiden, Earth Shrine Aviators...but on that day, Noctis chose the CD that was jet black with an elaborate Grim Reaper design -- Death with his Scythe -- embossed on the disc in a color that was not quite pink but not quite red. Magenta?  
  
He handed the CD to Nyx, who took a quick look at his passenger’s selection before popping it into the car’s player. “Ten Years of Darkness! Nice choice. I knew something would jump out at you.”  
  
As the first track began to play, Nyx explained to Noct that apparently, the vocalist and the original guitarist of the band were brothers, and the rumor was that they were at each other’s throats constantly. Their earlier albums had been darker, more melancholy, but after the guitarist called it quits for good, their style took a hard turn. Their more recent work was heavier, more aggro. The album Noctis had chosen was the first one they had released with their new guitarist. The fire in each chord, the marching drum beat, and the deep suffering and longing Noct could hear pouring from the singer’s voice completely enthralled him.  
  
“What's this one called?” Noctis had asked as the guitars thrummed from Nyx’s car speakers.  
  
“The song? ‘Be Careful What You Wish For,’” Nyx answered, eyes glimmering with mischief, the corner of his mouth pulling into a faint smirk as he steered them onto the scenic route. “Not bad advice.”  
  
Noct blushed, though he wasn't quite sure why -- or why he felt like his heart was skipping beats.  
  
He didn't know if he understood the message of the song, but he _did_ understand that he was already somehow deeply connected to the music, like it echoed in his bones. He felt it from the first time he had heard it, that day when Nyx purposely took the _very_ long way home from Noct’s school, then parked at the overlook just so they could listen to the entire album uninterrupted -- and he had felt it every time since then, even now in his own car, with the top down and the wind ruffling his hair, yelling the lyrics into the empty dark of the night.  
  
He arrived at the Knife & Lantern just after the doors opened, and found the line to get inside was slowly but surely proceeding forward as the attendees got their tickets scanned and their hands stamped. Judging by the fact that the majority of the crowd was roughly the same age as him, Noct was guessing most of the crowd had come to see the _actual_ headliner, Archaean’s Call -- he was the weird one with the outdated taste in music, after all. (He’d argue it was really _mature_ rather than _outdated_ , but whatever.) Ten Years of Darkness was second in the line-up, with a band Noctis had never heard of opening the show. He hoped they were good.  
  
Prompto was waving at him from further up in the queue. Noct pushed forward as politely as he could to get to his friend.  
  
“This. Is. Awesome!” Prompto gushed, clutching his fists to his chest. “Gladio and Iggy are gonna be sad they missed this.”  
  
Noct snorted. “Gladio, maybe -- but Ignis? Pretty sure he’s happier to be home in bed by ten.”  
  
“Ha! Yeah, you’re probably right.”  
  
“So, Prom,” Noct cleared his throat, “we’re, uh, getting pretty close to the front of the line. Any chance I could have my ticket?”  
  
“Yeah, of course!” Prompto put his hand in his pocket and then froze, like a chocobo in headlights. “Um...Noct?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Don’t be mad.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“I think...I left the tickets at my place.”  
  
Noctis crossed his arms and gave his best pout. “Dude.”  
  
“I said don’t be mad!” squeaked Prompto. “The opening band hasn’t even gone on yet -- I can just run and get ‘em. Wanna come with me?”  
  
Noct shook his head. “Nah, I’ll just slow you down. You go ahead and get back here as soon as you can -- I’ll be pissed if we both miss out and end up in bed at ten like Iggy.”  
  
Prompto gasped. “A fate worse than death. Alright -- I’ll be back before our guys are even up for soundcheck.”  
  
They stepped out of the line and, as though the events of just a few minutes earlier were playing in reverse, Noctis raised a hand to wave at Prompto as he pushed back _out_ of the crowd.  
  
After a few minutes, Noct started to feel awkward just standing in the middle of the open lot in front of the venue. He began to wander around, taking in the sights and sounds of show night: The lovers holding hands, the rumbling bass of the pre-show playlist echoing from inside the concert hall, a group of girls singing Archaean songs out of tune, and the pale white string lights circling the rooftop that gave parts of the building an otherworldly glow.  
  
The lights were especially unearthly, Noct found, around the side of the building, where the brighter spotlights they used for crowd control did not reach, and where he came upon a door to...well, who knew where, the hastily-scrawled paper sign just said _Staff Only_. He wondered why more people weren’t around -- he was the only one. The Knife  & Lantern was one of the smaller, more intimate venues in town. Bands came here when they wanted to play for crowds of _really_ dedicated fans. The ones who wanted to hear acoustic versions of all their faves, or listen to the singer explain how this particular song was written after a bout of food poisoning when they’d eaten nothing but saltine crackers for four days and had started seeing things -- _those_ kind of fans. This felt like the perfect place to camp out for autographs…  
  
Noctis nearly jumped out of his skin when a figure leaning against the building just past the door lit a match and touched it to the end of a cigarette. They took a long drag and then slowly exhaled, smoke rising and curling around the lights above. So Noct wasn’t as alone as he thought he was. But this person standing a mere five feet away from him -- really, _how_ did he not notice someone there? -- looked _awfully_ familiar.  
  
The figure half-turned towards him, holding out an open pack of cigarettes in offering.  
  
“Oh. Uh, no thanks,” Noct said sheepishly, feeling unexpectedly prudish. “I don’t smoke.”  
  
“Is that so? Good for you -- it’s an easy habit to learn and a _dreadful_ one to forget.” The pack disappeared into a waist pocket.  
  
That voice, deep and gravelly… It suddenly clicked where Noctis had heard it before.  
  
“ _Fuck_. You’re _Ardyn Izunia_.”  
  
Another hazy cloud of cigarette smoke rose into the night sky. “I’m afraid that I am. Will that be an _issue_ for you?”  
  
Noct’s heart clenched. “No! Sorry, I just -- I can’t believe it. I came here tonight to _see you_.”  
  
Ardyn laughed out loud -- a sad, rueful chuckle. “Well! That makes _one_ of you.”  
  
“At least two, actually,” Noct sighed, frowning. “My friend is with me but...he forgot our tickets.” He shrugged. “He’ll be back soon.”  
  
“ _Two_ whole fans. My, what _bounty_ the city has brought us this evening.” Ardyn raised his hands to the sky in sardonic praise.  
  
“Look. If these assholes--” Noctis jerked a thumb at the crowd behind him, “--knew _anything_ about music, they’d know Archaean’s Call wouldn’t even _exist_ if it weren’t for you and Ten Years of Darkness.”  
  
Ardyn quietly took one last puff before putting out his cigarette in a convenient ashtray by the door. He turned to face Noct fully, placing his now-unoccupied hands on his hips. Thick circles of black paint had been applied around Ardyn’s golden eyes, making them appear diseased and dripping with a slick oil. He regarded Noct carefully, taking him in from head to toe. _Is this how it feels to be prey?_ Noct wondered. Ardyn’s black-and-coeurl-print leather jacket did nothing to dispel the illusion. He’d never seen a coeurl in the wild, just in nature documentaries, but the narrators always said they were so _dangerous_ ; They could kill men instantly -- one could stalk you, sneak up on you from behind, and you’d never know what got you.  
  
Noct tried not to think about the fact that he hadn’t noticed Ardyn standing just a few scant feet away from him. He shuddered, his heart rate quickening...and hoped it was too dark for Ardyn to see the slight bulge at the front of his regretfully tight jeans. Or maybe Noct _did_ want him to see it -- even if the predator pounced on him instantly.  
  
_Fuck_.  
  
The string lights illuminated Ardyn like a saint from a classical painting -- with a halo of ethereal light behind his head, ready to bring salvation to his flock. Most saviors didn’t wear corpse paint, though.  
  
Noct was so busy admiring Ardyn that he didn't really process him opening the door between them. And then standing there. Holding it.  
  
“Well?” Ardyn said expectantly, arms crossed, one foot propping open the door -- letting the noise from inside escape into the night air.  
  
“Well what?” Noct blinked.  
  
Ardyn rolled his eyes. “Are you coming in or not?”  
  
_Holy. Shit._ Noct stammered, “Uh, oh, um -- but my friend? Our tickets?”  
  
“You don't need a ticket if you're with me.” Ardyn smirked as the words ___with me_ fell from his lips, and Noctis felt his knees go weak. Was this really happening? “You've a phone, yes? Let your friend know you'll see him inside.”  
  
Noct couldn't decide if Prompto would kill him or be genuinely thrilled for him...but he pulled his phone from his pocket and sent a text.  
  
_Hey, you’ll never believe this but I got in without a ticket. I'll tell you later. Meet you inside?_  
  
Ardyn swept into a faux bow, offering Noct the doorway. “After you.”  



	2. Chapter 2

Hesitantly, Noct entered the venue. He'd never been backstage anywhere before. The first thing he noticed was how _cramped_ it was. Turned out the Knife  & Lantern was even smaller than he thought. As his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, flashes of white on the black walls caught his attention. Looking up, he realized every surface backstage was covered in messages -- graffiti, really -- left behind by artists who had passed through the venue. Most names he didn't recognize, but a few he did. Even Doink! was there, slightly hidden in a high corner.  
  
As Ardyn led him down the narrow hallway, he saw one bit of scrawling that made him do a double-take. But no. There was no way. He only _thought_ he saw his father’s signature, alongside Cid Sophiar’s, Weskham Armaugh’s, and _Clarus Amicitia’s_...right?  
  
The hallway ended in a literal Green Room. Noct had always thought the term was figurative, and maybe in some venues it was, but here they’d taken the concept and run: The dark hall gave way to walls painted a shade of mint green Noct was fairly certain only occurred in chewing gum. The furnishings were sparse, just a few vinyl sectional seats the color of spring leaves pressed against the perimeter of the room, where a handful of people sat chatting with one another.  
  
Noct’s investigation of his surroundings was cut short by a voice from the corner. Looking towards it, he found a woman in a black corset and a red scarf, balancing carefully in stiletto-heeled boots. Her silver hair was partly pulled up in a messy ponytail, the rest left to frame her long, pale face.  
  
Having studied the liner notes for every 10YoD album and seen every music video and interview with the band about a million times, Noct quickly recognized her: Aranea Highwind, the bassist. The white-haired man with the pained expression sitting on the seat next to her, wearing a white tank top that exposed the colorful, highly detailed biomechanical tattoo covering his arm from shoulder to fingers -- that was Ravus Fleuret, the lead guitarist. And it was pretty obvious to Noct that the short, shirtless blond guy in the corner banging his drumsticks against the wall had to be Loqi Tummelt, the newest member of the group. (Why was it that drummers always seemed to be shirtless, anyway?)  
  
“Asshole,” Aranea swore at Ardyn. “Where have you been? We’re on in ten.”  
  
“In _ten_?” Ardyn narrowed his eyes. “What happened to our openers, praytell?”  
  
“Drummer chose the worst possible moment to confess he was sleeping with the singer’s boyfriend,” Aranea shook her head, jabbing her thumb towards the people chatting in the corner.  
  
His eyes following to where she pointed, Noctis suddenly realized the small group wasn’t having a casual conversation -- one of them was crying, the others patting his back softly. They looked exhausted and exasperated.  
  
 _Oh.  
  
_ “Maybe you wouldn’t be so shocked about these last minute adjustments, _Ardyn_ , if you would _be here_ with your _bandmates_ when they _happen_ ,” Ravus seethed.  
  
The singer shrugged and gave his best innocent pout. “Can’t a man enjoy his vices in peace? Besides, I come bearing moral support. Everyone, this is…” He gestured at Noct but paused. “Hm. You know, I don’t believe I caught your name.”  
  
Ravus put his face in his hands. Noct thought he heard him say something about “not having time for this groupie shit again” under his breath.  
  
“Oh. Um. I'm Noctis.” He put out a hand to shake, but found none extended to him in return.  
  
“Nothing personal, kid,” Aranea scoffed. “It’s just that you aren’t the first, and you _definitely_ won’t be the last.”  
  
“Come now,” Ardyn put an arm around her shoulder. “Is that any way to treat a fan? Dear Noctis came here this evening _just_ to see _us_.”  
  
A young girl wearing a headset poked around the corner into the room.  
  
“You’re on in five!” she announced impatiently, and ducked out just as quickly as she had ducked in.  
  
The deep sighs from Ravus and Aranea were audible from across the room.  
  
Noct wasn’t sure if it was the lack of circulation in the room, or because the tension was starting to make him a bit nervous, but he could feel beads of sweat starting on his brow. He knew the band had drama -- he’d read every account of the band’s tumultuous history -- but he never imagined he would see it with his own two eyes. Or that he would be the one who unintentionally stirred the hornet’s nest...  
  
Loqi turned around and started to drum a line of triplets on Noct’s shoulder.  
  
“Care for a beer, _groupie_?”  
  
He continued to drum as Noct briefly considered his answer. He glanced at Ardyn, whose thin smirk belied some amusement at the whole situation. “Y-yeah. I would. Thanks.”  
  
Loqi tucked his drumsticks into his back pocket and opened a small fridge in the corner of the room. He threw one to Ardyn, who snatched it from the air and opened it one-handed. Noct stared, wide-eyed.  
  
The other can Loqi brought to Noct himself. He held it out for Noct to take -- a peace offering.  
  
“Thank--” Noct started, but stopped cold as Loqi gave the can a few vigorous shakes. He shoved it into Noct’s hand and walked past him to the door. Noctis blinked slowly at the can in his hands, weighing the consequences of opening it before deciding to let it sit for the time being.  
  
“Well,” Ardyn cleared his throat. “I suppose we ought to take our places.” He took a swig of his drink. His bandmates filed out of the room and into the dark hallway. He began to follow them, but stopped when he realized Noct wasn’t moving. He raised a curious eyebrow. “Come along, dear Noctis. You can’t see the show very well from in here, you know.”  
  
Noct leapt forward, nearly dropping his beer. His face flushed hot red. He was getting ready to explain how he wasn’t normally this clumsy, honestly -- but Ardyn smiled.  
  
“There’s a good lad.”  
  
A shiver ran up the length of Noct’s spine. The coeurl stalked, inching ever closer behind him...  
  
And that was how Noctis found himself in the wings of one of the best venues in town, a tallboy of cheap beer in hand, about to watch his favorite band go on stage.  
  
Was this what heaven was like? He kind of hoped so.  
  
Ardyn waited beside him, his guitar -- a classic flying V with an ebony fretboard, its body the same magenta from their album designs -- set down on a nearby stool. He took a moment to finish his beer. Confidence radiated from him like sunlight -- Noct almost couldn’t bear to look at him.  
  
“The others are simply jealous, by the way,” Ardyn said suddenly, shoving his empty can at an unsuspecting roadie passing by. The roadie stopped in his tracks, looking momentarily perplexed, then walked off with the can, shaking his head all the while. “You know how it is -- the frontman always gets the most attention.”  
  
Noctis did not, in fact, know how it was. “I was worried maybe it was something about me…”  
  
“Hm. I suppose it very well _may_ be something about _you_ ,” Ardyn laughed, “but more often than not, these things are about _me_.”  
  
Noct wasn’t sure whether he was comforted or not. Maybe some liquid courage would do the trick. Slowly, he pulled the tab on his beer…  
  
Ardyn sighed, a sad look of nostalgia crossing his face. “A word of advice if I may, dear Noctis: Never sleep with your bandmates, no matter how tempting a proposition it may seem. It will only cause you trouble.”  
  
This was _not_ a bit of 10YoD trivia that Noct had expected to learn this evening. He could feel his face turning deep red. Distracted, his hand slipped, yanking the beer open too quickly. Foam poured out of the top and cascaded down the sides of the can. He jumped back, holding it out as far as possible, trying not to get beer on his boots. It dribbled from his hand instead.  
  
The sound tech started up the band’s intro -- a sample of dialogue from some old horror film, overlaid with a buzzing crescendo of guitar distortion.  
  
Ardyn gazed down at Noctis. “I’m afraid that’s my cue.”  
  
“Break a leg?” Noct offered, hand still dripping onto the floor.  
  
Ardyn grinned at him like a madman, then grabbed hold of the neck of his guitar, slinging its leather strap around himself, and marched out onto the stage to meet his audience.  
  
Of course, Noctis had seen recordings of some of their live shows before -- but no recording did justice to being in the presence of the real thing. Despite all of their personal conflicts, their energy performing together was unbeatable. Ravus’ fingers danced on the strings of his guitar, every lick and chord ringing out clear and purposeful. Aranea’s bass thrummed beneath the surface, supporting each melody from below like ocean waves buoying a swimmer. Noct almost thought Loqi would bust his drums, the way he pounded on them like some kind of out of control machine -- but somehow the chaos of his method fit comfortably with his bandmates’, and the beat never flagged.  
  
As for Ardyn…Noct found his charisma on stage was _intoxicating_. The singer was completely in his element. He swayed back and forth with the mic stand like a snake charmer, drawing the audience in. He hadn’t thought the crowd would be so into them -- Wasn’t everyone here for Archaean’s Call? Maybe not… -- but Ardyn was like some kind of enchanter. Noct could feel the vibrations through the floor as people danced along in a trance to the rhythm of each tune. A few were holding up their drinks in appreciation, as though toasting the band.  
  
Noctis felt himself getting lost in the music, lost in Ardyn’s voice. He wasn’t sure whether it was the beer or the magic of their performance, but he felt warm inside and a bit swimmy in the head. His whole body relaxed, letting go of tension he hadn’t even known he was holding. He tried desperately to commit the feeling to memory, to grasp it and tuck it away for later.  
  
Ravus and Aranea held out the last note, and slowly the song faded into an end. Noct was almost vibrating with anticipation for the next. And the next, and the next. Right through to what seemed to be the last song.  
  
The band exited the stage, waving to the audience, leaving their instruments behind. A filler melody played through the speakers, violet stage lights the only source of illumination.  
  
Ardyn joined Noctis in the wings. A roadie passed him a bottle of water. He chugged most of it, unceremoniously pouring the small remainder over his head. He ran his fingers through his unruly hair, the water running in rivulets down his face. Noct stared, his heart pounding. He resisted the urge to brush the drops away with his hand.  
  
“Th-that was really great,” Noct managed to stammer. _Wow. Very smooth, dude.  
  
_ Ardyn chuckled. “So glad you approve. But it isn’t over yet, you know. What sort of band would we be if we didn’t delight our audience with an encore?”  
  
Loqi had already returned to the darkened stage. Noct could see Aranea in the shadows, shuffling back to her place. Ravus put a hand to Ardyn’s arm as he passed -- a wordless signal.  
  
“I’m being summoned,” Ardyn said. He put a hand to Noct’s chin, tipping his face up just enough to look into his eyes. “I _do_ hope you’ll enjoy this last piece, Noctis.”  
  
Ardyn turned away and walked back to the stage, slinking comfortably through the darkness like it was his second home -- leaving Noctis frozen to the spot, utterly disarmed by his touch. A warmth spread outward from Noct’s core, his nerves lit ablaze.  
  
The audience began to clap as the background noise dimmed and the spotlights came up, revealing the band.  
  
“Alas, my dears, all good things must come to an end -- and I’m afraid this is our final song of the evening -- for _certain_ , this time.” Ardyn pouted into his mic. “But…we’ve a special guest with us tonight.” He smiled charmingly. “I think for this last tune, we ought to bring him out to say hello. How does that sound to you all?”  
  
The audience roared, and the warmth Noct was feeling suddenly turned to ice. What was he _doing_?  
  
Ardyn looked straight at him and crooked his finger, beckoning him to the stage. “Oh _Noct_ , don’t be shy. Your fans await.”  
  
Reluctantly, Noctis stepped out from the thick curtains at stage left. The crowd hollered as he emerged. He could barely see their faces for the floodlights in his eyes, but some motion in the middle of the floor caught his eye -- Prompto, flailing wildly to get his attention. Well, it had certainly worked. Noct could just barely make out the look on his face, which was something between complete shock and unbridled excitement.  
  
He knew the feeling.  
  
“Ah, there he is!” Ardyn announced. “Our guest claims to be a big fan of our music, but I’m not so sure…” He rubbed his chin in mock contemplation. “What do you say we give him a bit of a _pop quiz_?”  
  
Noctis felt his stomach drop through the floor as the audience went wild. They clearly liked the idea of potentially getting to see a stranger humiliate himself on stage.  
  
Ardyn pulled his mic from the stand and crossed the stage to where Noct stood. He put an arm around Noct’s shoulder and pulled him close, whispering his secret plan. “What do you say, Noct? Care to take the reins for this song? I’m certain you’ll know the words.”  
  
He shuddered slightly at Ardyn’s silky voice in his ear, goosebumps rising on his arms. How could he refuse? He’d been put on the spot, and if he backed out now, it would embarrass not just him, but the band as well -- and they’d already had a rough enough start to their night.  
  
 _Besides_ , a voice deep in his thoughts chimed in, _doesn’t it feel like your whole life has been leading up to this moment?  
  
_ All those years of following along with the band’s journey, learning their history, memorizing lyrics and yelling them at the top of his lungs as he drove through the city -- Yeah. It _did_ kinda feel that way.  
  
He gave a nearly imperceptible nod, and Ardyn handed over the mic.  
  
Noct’s hands had started to shake, so he held fast to the microphone, hoping it would ground him. The crowd clapped encouragingly. Somehow, it helped.  
  
Ardyn let go of Noct’s shoulder and moved behind him to grab his guitar. He tossed the strap over his head and situated himself. He looked over to Ravus and gave him a saucy wink.  
  
Ravus rolled his eyes -- but he knew what to do. He began to pick the first notes.  
  
Noctis didn’t have to look at the setlist taped to the stage to know what song it was -- he could name that tune in two notes: “Be Careful What You Wish For.” This had to be some kind of cosmic joke. He chuckled to himself, thinking of days gone by with a pang in his chest. _If only Nyx could be here to see this…  
  
_ Noct took a deep breath, waiting for his turn to jump in. The intro wound down -- it was time. _Three, two, one_ \--  
  
 _Oh, I dreamt I woke up in another place  
_ _Another time, another space  
_ _And in that world, you and I  
_ _Had another chance to fly  
  
_ His voice wavered at first, anxiety gripping his throat. But he could see the audience getting into it -- heads were bobbing, bodies moving with the beat. He looked over at Ardyn, who was staring intently at him with an amused half-smile as he strummed the harmony. Noct thought his heart might burst. When would he ever have another chance to do this? When would he ever again be able to prove how much this music meant to him, as the band looked on -- not just looked on, but as they _backed him up_?  
  
His voice steadied.  
  
 _Oh, the stars above never change  
_ _Even when the world is rearranged  
_ _You’ve gone away and left me behind  
_ _You went away and left me to die  
  
_ As they approached the chorus, Noct could feel the energy rolling off of the crowd. It was… _invigorating_. He launched into it without reservation, letting the power of the music carry him, smiling at the few members of the audience who were singing along.  
  
 _Whoa-oh-oh  
_ _Be careful what you wish for  
_ _‘Cause your wish just might come true  
_ _You wished that I’d be done with you  
_ _And I wished the same thing too…  
  
_ He thought he knew what it was like to enjoy music. But as Noct allowed the song to move through him and flow from him, he suddenly understood that there was a difference -- a deep, _vital_ difference -- between _enjoying_ music…and _experiencing_ music. Singing by himself in his car couldn’t hold a candle to this. By the time he brought the song to a close, his whole body tingled, electrified.  
  
A hand clapped to his shoulder, bringing him back to the world. He looked up, expecting to find Ardyn -- but was shocked to find Aranea instead. And she was _smiling_ at him.  
  
“You did good, kid,” she murmured to him, careful not to let the mic pick up her words. “Maybe he was right… _this_ time.”  
  
As Noctis was processing the fact that Aranea Highwind _herself_ had _complimented him_ , Ardyn sidled up behind him. He reached around and slid the mic from Noct’s hand, taking control of the stage back from his new protégé. Noct sucked in a sharp breath as Ardyn’s hand brushed his.  
  
“Did you enjoy that, my darlings? Why don’t we thank our guest -- I do believe he passed our quiz with _distinction_ ,” Ardyn spoke to the applauding crowd, who whooped louder and clapped harder in response. “Take a bow for your fans, Noct.”  
  
Noct did as he was told, putting a hand to his chest and bowing at the waist, the way he sometimes saw people do for his father.  
  
Ardyn thanked the crowd for coming, and they made their exit back to the wings, floating on the sound of the cheering audience. The curtain closed behind them to hide the stage crew, who suddenly poured out from backstage to break down their equipment and set things up for the headliners.  
  
Back in the green room, the band was calmer, quieter than they had been -- Noct could easily imagine now the energy it must take to perform a full set. Loqi collapsed along the length of one of the couches, putting his arms behind his head to use as a pillow. He yelped as Aranea sat down on top of his shins.  
  
“Don’t complain. You’re the one taking up all the space,” Aranea said matter-of-factly. She settled back against the vinyl cushions, making herself comfortable.  
  
Ravus did not sit, but instead took a beer from the fridge and leaned against the empty wall space beside it. He eyed Noct with some suspicion.  
  
Noct swallowed nervously. “I uh…should probably go find my friend.”  
  
“Yes,” Ravus’ face was half-hidden by his beer can as he took a sip, but he sounded as though he spoke through gritted teeth. “Maybe you _should_.”  
  
“Nonsense!” Ardyn exclaimed, clapping a hand to Ravus’ back -- perhaps a bit too hard. “Your _friend_ should join us. We’ll have one of our crew direct him--”  
  
“I’m sorry -- join you…where?” Noct interrupted.  
  
“At our suite, of course. Much better beverages there than the _swill_ they stock here.” Ardyn pulled a face. “They are convenient for taking the edge off prior to getting on stage -- and that is where their usefulness ends.”  
  
“Oh,” said Noct simply, though he felt as though he were screaming on the inside. _They want us to come party with them? Oh fuck. Is this really happening?  
  
_ There was just one thing.  
  
“Shouldn’t we stay for Archaean’s Call’s set?” asked Noctis. “Isn’t that like…the polite thing to do?” He didn’t really care one way or the other about the headliner, but…  
  
He heard Loqi burst into laughter from the couch. “Oh _please_. They’re busy drowning in rabid fans. They won’t even notice we’ve left.”  
  
“We do this every show.” Ravus rolled his eyes, as though Noct should have _known_ this already. “Our crew will pack our things, and in the meantime, we make our escape.”  
  
“Wolves care not for the opinions of sheep -- don’t you agree?” Ardyn extended a gentlemanly hand. “Now then, shall we?”  
  
Noctis hesitated for just a moment -- Would he wake up from this dream if they touched? -- before placing his hand on Ardyn’s outstretched palm.  
  
Ardyn closed his fingers around Noct’s. A playful smile crossed his face. Too charmed to say no, Noctis let Ardyn lead him from the green room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tagged Mild Sexual Content is in here. :)

_That_ was how Noctis found himself in a hotel room with his idols and a few of their tour crew, a glass of top-shelf bourbon in his hand. One of the roadies was acting as a DJ, spinning up bass-heavy background music as the rest of the room’s occupants lounged with drinks or stood around chatting. A couple standing in the corner were passing a joint back and forth between them, the skunky smell of weed wafting under Noct’s nose. Though Noct had sobered up quickly when he had been called on stage before, with the help of the other party-goers, who never left him with an empty glass, he was well on his way to reclaiming his buzz.  
  
A knock on the door came not terribly long after their arrival. Aranea opened it, tilting her head as she examined the visitor on the other side, looking him up and down.  
  
“Oh! Uh, hi!” the visitor said cheerfully. “Is this where the party is? Someone at the Knife and Lantern gave me directions…”  
  
Aranea shouted across the room. “Hey, kid -- this one yours?”  
  
Noctis turned to see Prompto at the door, waving excitedly at him. “Yep, that’s him.”  
  
Aranea jerked her head towards the center of the room, beckoning Prompto inside. He stammered out a sheepish thank you to her before joining Noct, who stood next to the occupied couches.  
  
“ _Dude!_ I saw you on stage! You _killed it_ up there.” Prom looked around, taking in the surroundings. “And this? I can’t believe this is happening. You must be over the moon right now, huh?”  
  
Noctis stared off into the distance. “Honestly? I keep asking myself if this is real, or just some wild trick of my mind.”  
  
Prompto reached over and pinched the back of Noct’s arm. Noct yelped as he flinched and pulled away. He clapped a hand to his mouth, embarrassed.  
  
“ _Jeez_ , Prom, what the hell?” Noct gave Prompto’s shoulder a light retaliatory punch.  
  
Prompto shrugged. “Hey, now you know you’re not dreaming, right?”  
  
Noct was still rubbing his arm when Ardyn approached them.  
  
“Ah, Noct -- this must be your friend.” Ardyn stole closer, a beer in one hand and a matching glass of bourbon in the other. He held out the beer to Prompto. “Please, do make yourself comfortable.”  
  
Prompto accepted the can with a nod of thanks. “Oh. Em. Gee. Ardyn Izunia _himself_ just handed me a beer. How are we even going to explain this to Iggy and Gladio,” he muttered, half to himself.  
  
Ardyn chuckled at Prompto’s enthusiasm. “I must say, I didn’t expect to find such _devoted_ fans in this city.” He leaned over to Noctis and spoke softly into his ear. “I feel I should thank you for your _dedication_. Would you care to accompany me?”  
  
Noct blinked. “But my friend--?”  
  
“Your friend seems to be doing just fine…” Ardyn pointed past Noctis at Prompto.  
  
Who knew how, but he had slipped past both of them and was attempting to chat up Aranea. Noct could see him blushing from here, his freckles blending into the red of his cheeks. Aranea’s expression was amused -- a coeurless watching a kitten try to roar. Prom might not have a chance with her in a million years, but Noct had to give him props for trying.  
  
“I promise she’ll not eat him alive -- probably.” Noct could hear Ardyn’s grin, even without seeing it. “Back to the question at hand, dear Noct. Your friend is well taken care of. Need I convince you further?”  
  
The feeling of Ardyn’s breath at his ear made Noctis tremble. His heart pounded in his chest. The wild creature had stalked him through the evening -- and now here he was, right behind Noct, muscles coiled, about to pounce.  
  
Noctis was ready to be pounced upon. He looked up at Ardyn and wordlessly nodded his assent. No further convincing was necessary.  
  
Ardyn took Noct by the hand, leading him into one of the bedrooms. Softly, he closed the door behind them.  
  
Ravus watched them disappear behind the door. Scowling, he chugged the remainder of his beer, then dragged himself across the room for another.  
  
The bedroom was much smaller than the expansive common area of the suite, yet it had enough space to boast a wide king-sized bed. Stacks of pillows and a luxurious down comforter gave the bed a fluffy look, like someone had managed to capture clouds inside fabric. A glass door at the far side of the room led out onto a small balcony. Still firmly gripping Noct’s hand, Ardyn slid the door open and shepherded Noctis through it.  
  
Overcast weather had rolled in, covering the moon and diluting its glow, but the city below twinkled brightly, a sea of lights in white and orange, green and red. Noct could see his father’s company headquarters -- a sky-scraping monolith off in the distance. A weak breeze ruffled his hair slightly as he looked out over the land, like a king surveying his domain.  
  
Beside him, Ardyn placed his glass on the balcony railing and removed his cigarettes and matchbook from his pocket. He struck the match and lit up, carefully guarding the flame with a cupped hand. With a raised eyebrow, he held out the pack in offering to Noctis, as he had done earlier in the evening.  
  
It wasn’t as though Noct had _never_ smoked before. He remembered when Ignis had caught him and Prompto after school, taking drags behind the gym. He couldn’t recall how he’d even gotten the cigarettes -- but he could still hear Iggy in the back of his head reprimanding him, all these years later.  
  
Ignis wasn’t here now, though, and neither was Prompto. Just him, two glasses of bourbon, and Ardyn Izunia, lead singer of Ten Years of Darkness.  
  
Noctis, feeling uncharacteristically confident, accepted the offer. He carefully pulled a cigarette from the pack. Smirking approvingly, Ardyn handed him the matchbook. Noct struck a match, but the breeze had picked up, and the flame extinguished as quickly as it had been lit. He tried again, with the same results.  
  
“Perhaps I can be of assistance,” Ardyn purred.  
  
Before Noct could waste another match, Ardyn took him by the shoulders, pulling him close. Cigarette pressed between his lips, Ardyn leaned in. Noctis felt a hum of anticipation resonating through his body. His knees felt weak -- he barely remembered to breathe in as Ardyn touched the tip of his cigarette to the tip of Noct’s, sharing his light. He took a drag and realized he was staring at Ardyn’s mouth, wondering what it might have felt like had cigarettes not been in the way.  
  
Noctis was both thankful and disappointed when Ardyn released his shoulders and resumed his position leaning against the railing. He needed to switch gears before his thoughts -- his _fantasies_ \-- consumed him.  
  
“So,” Noct started, “is audience participation a new thing on this tour? Ravus didn’t seem too happy about it...”  
  
“ _Ravus_ will not be happy until he accepts the fact that we shall never be more than _occasional fuckbuddies_.” Ardyn laughed ruefully.  
  
Noctis blushed as he realized this was probably the crux of _most_ of the band’s drama. Ardyn _had_ mentioned something about jealousy at the show...  
  
“And it isn’t new,” Ardyn continued, “just _rare_. It isn't a gimmick we employ often -- only when I find someone with _potential_.”  
  
“You...think I have potential?” Noct was unsure what _kind_ of potential he might mean.  
  
“Indeed. I could tell the moment I laid eyes on you. You've got energy, a power laying dormant within you.” He put a finger to Noct’s chest for emphasis. “Did you not feel it when you sang?”  
  
Noct thought about the buoyant feeling that had emerged in his chest while he was on stage. The music, the audience, the lights, the very act of being part of something larger than himself had all lifted him to an almost spiritual experience. Yeah, maybe he _had_ felt it.  
  
“I merely gave you the opportunity to realize your power.” Ardyn took a drag. “Have you considered walking the musician’s path?”  
  
He had. Of course he had. But he had always just assumed one day he would finally give in and become the boring businessman his father wanted him to be. But now, standing here with Ardyn, knowing he could be part of that world…that someone _believed_ he could...  
  
He’d honestly doubted he would ever be the person his father hoped he would become anyway.  
  
“My father would probably shit himself.” Noct blew smoke into the night air.  
  
“Ah yes, family. So inconvenient for achieving one’s dreams.”  
  
Suddenly, Noct remembered the history of the band. “Your brother was in the band with you originally, wasn't he?” he asked, though he knew the answer full well.  
  
“He was,” Ardyn said, looking out over the city, a tinge of sadness in his voice. “We had some... _creative differences_. He left and took our drummer along with him. That man played drums like he had extra arms -- truly remarkable. But I digress. They departed the band, and shortly after, they departed this world.”  
  
Noct recalled reading about the tragic accident that had killed two of the founding members. His heart panged in sympathy -- he too had lost loved ones.  
  
“So...is it worth it? The rock star life?” Noctis asked cautiously.  
  
“Certainly. One may lose it all, but one may regain it on the road, you see.” Ardyn put out his cigarette on the railing. “That includes family -- irritating as they may sometimes be.”  
  
Noct stubbed his cigarette out as well, following Ardyn’s lead. Looking up, his eyes met Ardyn’s. The singer had washed the paint from his face before they had even left the Knife & Lantern, but his amber eyes were just as brilliant as they had been when they were offset by circles of deep black -- maybe even moreso. Something passed between them as they gazed at one another, a silent message of recognition, of understanding.  
  
“I've still not said thank you,” Ardyn noted, keeping his eyes on Noct.  
  
 _Don't say it_ , Noctis thought. _Show me.  
  
_ Fortunately for Noct, Ardyn had no intention of expressing his gratitude in words.  
  
Ardyn cupped Noct’s face with his hand, brushing his thumb against his cheek affectionately. He let his thumb wander, grazing over Noct’s lower lip. With his unoccupied hand, he reached behind Noct and pressed against the small of his back, urging him closer. Noct sighed, closing his eyes, melting into Ardyn’s touch. Seconds later, he felt soft pressure and the fiery taste of bourbon against his lips -- Ardyn, gently kissing him, then not so gently, curling his fingers in the hair at the back of Noct’s head. The hand on Noct’s back drifted downward, finding its way into his back pocket, giving his ass a squeeze. Noctis gasped slightly, unintentionally biting down on Ardyn’s lip in the process. Noct panicked briefly, hoping he hadn’t hurt him, but he felt a low rumble of pleasure roll through Ardyn’s chest and knew all was well.  
  
Maybe _better_ than well, as the bite seemed to have emboldened Ardyn. Without warning, he clasped both hands around Noct’s waist and lifted him up. Noct scrambled to wrap his legs around Ardyn as he carried him back into the bedroom. He kept his legs clasped tight as Ardyn laid him down on the soft, fluffy bed, and did not let go even while Ardyn pushed him down into the mattress with the force of his bruising kisses alone. If he was going to be crushed, this was _definitely_ the way he wanted it to go.  
  
Ardyn sat up, swiftly discarding his jacket and shirt. Noct had always half-wondered what the singer might look like underneath his clothes -- Was he buff or lean? Tanned or pale? -- but the one thing he hadn’t considered was whether or not the man had any body modifications. (Given his own numerous piercings, Noct questioned why he hadn’t thought of that _first_.) With Ardyn’s torso revealed, Noct could now see his large chest tattoo: some kind of horned devil, wreathed in flames, its arms extended to either side, clawed fingers grasping swords in each hand. Noct couldn’t help himself -- he reached up to touch it, running his fingers along the outlines. From there, he followed the contours of Ardyn’s muscles downward. He hesitated as his hand brushed over Ardyn’s stomach, and then stopped. His nerves were overwhelming him -- Should he keep going? What if Ardyn didn’t like what he was doing? Surely a celebrity like him had pretty high standards --  
  
Ardyn allowed him to continue ruminating for a moment more before he took Noct’s hand and raised it to his lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Rather than returning Noct’s hand to him, he guided it lower, past his stomach, laying it over the very prominent hard-on straining against his black leather pants. Noct looked up at him with wonder.  
  
Ardyn leaned over, bringing them face-to-face. He gave a deep, throaty chuckle. “Oh _Noct_ , there’s no need to be bashful.” He pressed Noct’s hand harder against his cock. “ _This_ is _for you_ , after all.”  
  
Noct sucked in a breath, his own deep arousal coursing through his very skin like electricity.  
  
The coeurl was unleashed. He set upon Noctis, pulling his clothing from him, hardly taking time to take stock of his prey before devouring him from stem to stern. All the while Noct writhed beneath him, choking out small grunts and moans, pulling at his long claret hair. Noct had never understood what it meant to be _ravished_ before. But as Ardyn pushed into him and slowly rolled his hips, each measured thrust bringing a new sensation -- oh, he _understood_.  
  
Pleasure coursed through Noctis like ocean waves, and he was sinking into the depths, drowning in it. He held on as long as he could, until he swore the twinkling lights of the city were dancing in front of his eyes. He scratched long trails across Ardyn’s back as he fought to stay present, to not lose himself in the feeling -- but there was no use resisting.  
  
“ _Yes_ \-- just so, Noct,” Ardyn growled. “ _Surrender_ yourself to me.”  
  
Noctis could do naught else but obey. He gripped the pillow behind his head with one hand while the other wrapped behind Ardyn’s neck, pulling him close. He locked his lips to Ardyn’s, moans of delight vibrating between them as they soared over the edge together.  
  
Ardyn rolled over beside Noct as he came down. He stretched out along the length of the bed, breathing heavily and smiling smugly.  
  
“He’s got a pretty face, a lovely voice, excellent taste in music, _and_ he’s a good lay?” Ardyn laughed. “You make it quite difficult for a man who lives his life on the road.”  
  
“Then...don’t go?” Noct pleaded.  
  
“You’d tire of me eventually, _young thing_ ,” Ardyn chuckled.  
  
“I’m not tired _yet_ …” Noctis nudged Ardyn over onto his back, throwing a leg over his torso to straddle him.  
  
It was __his turn to pounce.  


-~-  


Noctis awoke to the sounds of the city in motion below. His whole body felt drained, limp like a wet paper towel, and his mouth tasted of stale booze. He rubbed at his eyes, attempting to prepare them for the sunlight that would greet them. He rolled over, expecting to feel Ardyn’s warmth next to him...but there was only unoccupied bedspace. He blinked his eyes open, and found himself alone.  
  
 _Of course._ He sighed, disappointed but unsurprised. _All dreams have to come to an end, right?  
  
_ He busied himself with retrieving his clothes from various parts of the bedroom. He shuddered slightly as he picked up each article of clothing, the memory of how they got there flashing in his mind. Once he had gotten everything together and dressed himself, he sat on the bed to pull on his boots -- and noticed a small piece of paper beside him, ripped from the standard hotel-brand notepad that had been sitting on the bedside table. He picked it up and tried to will his eyes into focusing on the words.  
  
 _For my Biggest Fan.  
_ _\-- Ardyn  
  
_ Beneath Ardyn’s elaborate signature was a string of numbers -- a _phone number_. Noct’s heart raced with excitement. He didn’t know what he had done to deserve it, but he was not about to complain. He folded the paper and stuck it in his wallet for safe-keeping.  
  
What lay beyond the bedroom door was mostly predictable: the common area was utterly trashed, as only a rock band could do. Chairs on their sides, couch cushions half a room away from their home, and enough empty bottles and cans to net a small fortune from recycling turn-ins. The only real surprise was finding Prompto curled up on the floor by one of the couches, drooling on the pillow in his arms as he snored -- with a familiar red scarf loosely wrapped around his neck. Noct raised an eyebrow -- he’d have to interrogate his friend later.  
  
Noctis saw Prompto safely home before returning home himself. He collapsed onto his bed, phone in his hand. How soon was _too soon_ to text the celebrity you’d spent the night having raucous sex with, anyway?  
  
“ _Noctis!_ ” came a shout from down the hall.  
  
 _Oh boy. So dad_ was _home.  
  
_ There were a few quick knocks at Noct’s bedroom door. The aura of his father’s disappointment was palpable right through the wall.  
  
“Noctis, I'd like to speak with you. Open the door.”  
  
With a deep sigh, Noct peeled himself from his bed and let his father in. He sat back down on the bed with a huff.  
  
“You didn’t come home last night,” Regis said, frowning.  
  
“I was out at a show.” Noct yawned. “I’m not a kid anymore, dad -- you don’t have to keep tabs on me all the time.”  
  
Regis crossed his arms. “It’s not about _keeping tabs_ , son. It’s about knowing you’re _alright_ when you disappear for a night. You won’t be able to just _walk away_ from your responsibilities once you’ve taken your place in the company--”  
  
“What if I don’t even _want_ to go into the business, dad?” Noctis interrupted, clutching his bedsheets. “I love _music_ \-- it’s what I’ve _always_ loved.”  
  
Noct looked up at his father. “You loved it too, once, didn’t you? I saw your autograph on the wall of the Knife & Lantern. Yours, along with Weskham, Uncle Clarus, and Old Man Cid’s. How can you tell me to give all that up, when you _know_ what it feels like to be on stage, with the crowd shouting and cheering just for you?”  
  
Regis was quiet for a moment.  
  
“I can tell you this _because_ I know what it feels like, Noctis,” he finally said, firmly. “It's true, the love of one audience can sustain you for days. But it isn't all sunshine, you know. There are all the parts _between_ each concert. _That's_ where your fortitude is truly tested.”  
  
“I _know_ all that, dad,” Noct argued. “I've read the profiles of every major rock band of the past _twenty years_. They all have bad days, or bad weeks -- or even _months_ \-- when nothing seems to go right. But I want to experience it _all_. The highs _and_ the lows.”  
  
Regis chewed his lip slightly. “I'm your father, Noctis. I want you to be safe. But...I also want you to be happy,” he sighed, defeated. “Do as you wish, my son. Perhaps one day after years on the road, you'll meet someone you love enough to leave that life behind, as I did with your mother. When that happens, know that I will be here for you.”  
  
He exited the room, starting to pull the door shut behind him. He paused, looking back at Noct with a soft expression, as though seeing bygone days reflected in his son’s face.  
  
“Do remember me when you are famous, won't you?” Regis cracked a smile.  
  
“How could I forget?” Noct smiled back. “I gotta get a band together first, though. Think Uncle Clarus would be up for a jam session? Gladio is tone-deaf, so he's out.”  
  
His father laughed. “I'll see what I can do. Perhaps I'll even dust off my own equipment.”  
  
“I’d like that,” said Noct -- and he meant it.  
  
Regis closed the door, leaving Noctis to himself.  
  
His phone buzzed on the bed, beneath his hand. He turned it over, finding a text from Prompto displayed across the screen. He was complaining about his hangover, driving the point home with a few puking emoji. _Lovely._ Noct sent him back a short message of sympathy.  
  
Noct stared at the screen for a moment, gathering himself, before touching the New Message button. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket, and slid the small paper out. He copied the handwritten number into the recipient field, and then watched the cursor blink in the text body for twenty solid minutes as he agonized over what he should write.  
  
Eventually, tired of thinking about it, he decided to just keep it simple.  
  
 _Hey. Thanks for leaving me your number.  
  
_ Noctis was genuinely shocked when the reply came almost immediately (and that it had come at all, really).  
  
 _You're quite welcome. I do hope you will make good use of it.  
  
_ Noct wondered what exactly “good use” entailed.  
  
 _So do you give your number out to *all* your groupies?_ Noct asked.  
  
 _The road is a lonely place, Noctis,_ Ardyn responded. _Don't be jealous.  
  
_ He let the message hang in the air, thinking of what he should say. He didn't want to seem _clingy_ \-- they'd only met yesterday, after all -- but…  
  
 _Will I ever see you again?_ he typed. His thumb hovered over the emojis. He added a frowning face, a microphone, and musical notes before hitting send.  
  
Prompto would be so proud.  
  
His phone buzzed again. Part of him didn't want to look, in case the answer was _no_ , which would have been a perfectly reasonable answer when he thought about it --  
  
Ardyn’s message was just a few words long. Noctis could easily imagine his roguish smile as he’d typed it.  
  
 _ ___ _Be careful what you wish for..._  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! It's been a lovely Ardynoct Week and I'm so glad to have been able to participate alongside so many other excellent authors and artists.

**Author's Note:**

> Punk Rock Noctis inspired by amazing art by [Numinocoeur](http://numinoceur.tumblr.com/) and [bev-nap](http://bev-nap.tumblr.com) that I unfortunately cannot find right now, but please go check out their work! Rockstar Ardyn inspired by Iggy Pop and Alice Cooper, with a dash of Scott Weiland.


End file.
